Never Tempt a Rogue: A Rogues' Rulebook Novella (10 page)

“You’d love to?” Alex asked hopefully. “You’ve never heard a better idea in your life?”

“You’re a viscount,” Felicity finally managed.

“So they keep telling me.” He was still grinning. He hadn’t stopped smiling since asking her to marry him.

“I’m a chaperone.”

“Why not be a viscountess instead? You can pretend you’re chaperoning me if you like. Follow me around. Keep me out of trouble.” Finally his grin fell into a frown. “No, that won’t do. I was rather hoping you’d join me in getting into trouble.”

“I don’t know the first thing about being a viscountess.” Her head knew she should protest, keep throwing out reasons that this extraordinary gift he was offering her could not be hers. But inside, her heart was too full of joy to believe any of her own reasons.

“Then we are well matched, because I know next to nothing about being a viscount. We can muddle through together.” When he reached for her hand, slipping hers into his felt right, as if she’d found a place where she belonged. With him. Wherever he was, that was where she wished to be.

“You’re trembling, love.” Alex gently chafed her hands, though she wasn’t cold. She’d simply remembered. Recalled that she was not a fresh young debutante, but a woman who’d given herself to another man.

“I’m not a maid.”

That tempered his grin. His brow furrowed as he gazed at her, confusion shadowing his eyes.

“I’m not an innocent.” Her voice broke on the confession

Alex clasped her hands, stood, and pulled her to her feet.

“Ssh, love.” Lifting a hand to her face, he carefully swept away a tear. “I want you just as you are, Felicity. I love you just as you are.”

“But I’m not a virgin.” Loved her? A ruined woman?

He kissed the tip of her hose. “Nor, sweetheart, am I.”

Felicity never expected that he was, but she suddenly wondered to what extent, precisely, he wasn’t. “Your aunt said you only wrote
The
Rogue’s Rulebook
, that none of the exploits in the book are yours.”

“Ah.” He stroked down her back, then shaped her waist with his hands. Without a corset on, only her light evening chemise between them, the slide of his fingers felt erotic, possessive. “It’s fair to say
most
of the incidents are not my own.”

“I see.” Felicity settled her hands on his chest, toying with a button at the top of his shirt before slipping it free. “Perhaps I should read this book of yours after all.”

“We can read it together.” He bent his head to nuzzle her neck, sliding his lips up to her ear. “Better yet,” he whispered, hot breath against her skin. “I’ll show you.”

“Yes.” He kissed behind her ear, and it was as if he’d found a secret spot that turned her insides to warm syrup. Her knees began to quiver, and he wrapped his arms around her to take her weight.

Then he stopped kissing her, stopped stroking his lips against her skin, and she whimpered in protest.

He’d pulled back to stare at her. “Is that
the
yes? Did you just agree to be my wife?”

“Yes.” It had been a yes of need, but only for Alex. The power of her desire for him frightened and thrilled her. This, she knew, was a love from which there was no going back. She was willing to risk her heart again, but only for a gentleman rogue. Only for Alex. “Yes.”

CHAPTER TEN

Touching a woman had never mattered this much. Never felt so fraught and fragile. Female companionship came easy. He’d been practicing seduction for years, but this felt different. Felicity was different. In a few short days, she’d changed everything, and he wanted to show her how she’d transformed him with every touch, remind her with every word that passed between them.

“You’re so lovely.” He caught a honey tress of her hair around his finger. Achingly soft, just like her skin. If purple was her favorite color, the warm golden shade of her hair would become his. Or perhaps the light violet-gray of her eyes. Or maybe the carnation blush of her lower lip. He stroked the pad of his thumb across the spot before taking her mouth in a kiss.

“Surely you’ve known lovelier women.” She whispered the words against his lips, her voice deliciously husky.

“I can’t recall any other woman when I have you in my arms.”

She chuckled, but kept her hand braced against his chest. When he bent to kiss her again, she pushed at him gently.

“Does that mean you will remember them when I’m not in your arms?” Her lips were reddened from his kisses, her silken hair disheveled from his touch. But it was the little line of worry between her tawny brows that forced him to temper the raging need inside.

Every impulse urged him to draw her toward the bed and show her precisely how much he wanted her. Only her.

But Felicity was a woman who valued words. She always had a book nearby. And he’d written a book full of words and salacious stories that would make any lady wonder whether she could trust him with her heart.

“You’re worried because of the
Rogues’ Rulebook
.” For the first time, Alex regretted his involvement with the book. “I will never let its infamy touch you, Felicity. I can withdraw from the project if you wish.”

She grinned, and he wondered what else he could offer to nudge her grin into a smile.

“I’m not afraid of infamy.” She lifted her palm from his chest and unfastened another of his shirt buttons. “Nor am I in a position to judge anyone’s reputation.”

A hiss emerged through his teeth when her cool fingers stroked his heated skin. Somewhere between a few kisses and her gentle explorations, the lady had set him on fire. He eyed the bed, wondering how quickly he could have her undressed and laid out before him so he could—

“Alex?” She frowned when he met her gaze. “I never expected to feel as I do about you.”

He chuckled. “Yes, I distinctly recall how much you loathed me the first time we met.”

“I never loathed you.” She sighed and he relished the way it caused her body to melt further against his. “I tried, I must admit. And failed spectacularly.”

“Thank God you found me irresistible.” Tucking her closer, Alex savored how perfectly her curves fit against his body.

“I did,” she conceded, “but we don’t know each other very well.”

Even through the haze of lust and need, Alex could see the hesitation in Felicity’s eyes. She didn’t trust him yet. Yes, she’d allowed him into her bed chamber, let him hold and kiss her. But that wretch Kenniston had wounded her. Alex had never cared enough for anyone to mind rejection, but he could imagine the pain of losing Felicity’s affection. And his brother’s death weighed on his mind. If not for a broken heart, Henry would be the one taking his rightful place as Viscount Lindsay.

“Very well.” He grasped her hand, led her to the room’s corner sitting nook, and drew her down onto his lap as he seated himself in the plush chair.

His body responded instantly when she settled the warm curve of her backside against his groin. The hem of her skirt was far too close. He slid a hand down to lift the fabric. Felicity gasped, and he stilled, resting his palm against her ankle.

“Ask me.” His voice emerged breathless, harsher than he’d intended. “Ask me anything, sweet. I won’t hide anything from you.”

He moved his hand as he waited, sliding it slowly up her stockinged leg. Mercy, she was warm. Her vanilla scent made him ravenous for the taste of her. When he gripped her knee, pulled her legs just an inch apart, Felicity bit her lip and closed her eyes.

“Coffee or tea?” she finally whispered.

“Whiskey.” He slid a finger behind her knee as she giggled at his answer. As he stroked the tender flesh there, she gripped his shoulders, bunching the fabric of his shirt in her fists. She wiggled as he reached higher, snaking his fingers toward the top edge of her stocking.

“What time do you rise in the morning?” Felicity seemed to have no notion of the double meaning of her question. At least at first. Then her cheeks bloomed in a fierce blush. Alex shifted his hips to show her how thoroughly she’d caused him to rise.

“With you by my side, sweetheart.” Under her skirt and petticoats, his hand glided higher, along the inner edge of her thigh. “I suspect I’ll be rising quite early. And quite often.”

“Good.” She gasped as he crested the top of her stocking, finally sliding his bare fingers against the flesh of her inner thigh. “I find there is much one can accomplish early in the morning.”

“Oh, darling. We will use our mornings well.” Alex could imagine nothing better than waking with Felicity, making love to her all morning after doing the same all night. His fingers tangled in the ruffles of her drawers. The fabric was soft as silk, but nothing to the velvet of her skin.

Felicity knew just what he needed. She allowed him in, moving her leg just enough to fit his fingers inside her drawers. When he delved deep enough to feel her damp curls against his fingertip, she dropped her head back and emitted a lusty moan.

Alex pressed his mouth to her neck, pushed at the fabric of her chemise, licked a trail from her throat to her chest. When he kissed the plump swell of one breast, he slid his finger deeper. Found the place where he belonged, snugged inside her glorious heat.

“Any other questions, love?” He pulled back to watch her eyes, to see the mix of pleasure and love. To see that there was no more hesitation, only a need as intense as his own.

“Children,” she gasped. “Do you want many?”

Alex stilled. He’d vowed in his youth that he would never be a father. Never risk inflicting his father’s brand of disdain and disapproval on a child. Now he knew begetting an heir was his duty. Felicity’s question caused an image to bloom in his mind. A pair of flaxen-haired children frolicking in the meadow near his family estate, just as he and Henry had years before.

“At least two.” He shaped a hand over the curve of her breast, reveling in the insistent thrust of her nipple against his palm. “But not immediately. I want you to myself for a while.”

“While I learn how to be a proper viscountess.” That divot of worry began to form on her forehead again.

“I’ll be there with you.” Alex began stroking her, using all he knew about giving pleasure to erase that line of worry marring her brow. “Every step of the way. Learning how to be a viscount.”

He took her mouth as she began to quiver, her body tensing as he drew her closer to the edge. She kissed him hungrily, one hand tangled in his hair, the other curled around his nape.

“We’ll do it together, love?”

“Yes,” she breathed the word against this mouth, letting out a little gasp with every stroke of his fingers.

“Alex?” She clutched at his neck, tugged at his hair as her own body drew tight around him.

“Let go.” He nuzzled her cheek, nipped at her lobe before whispering in her ear. “Trust me, sweetheart. I’ll catch you.”  

And he did.

Felicity buried her face against his neck and cried out his name as she fell to pieces in his arms. He stroked her back as she trembled, kissed her flushed cheek. “I love you” he whispered against her hair.

It took every bit of restraint he possessed, used up his whole meager supply of honorable behavior, not to lift her in his arms, deposit her on the bed, and make love to her until she cried out his name again. And again.

She let out a little grown of protest when he began settling her skirt and grasped her waist to help her stand.

“I’m not ready to let you go.” Felicity emphasized her words by gripping the front of his shirt, as if she meant to hold on rather than let him dislodge her.

“I never intend to be parted from you for long.” He offered her one quick kiss to emphasize
his
words. “But we must do this properly.”

After glancing between them, at his half-open shirt and her gaping chemise, Felicity quirked a dubious look.

“Well, as properly as a rogue and thoroughly disheveled chaperone can manage.” He needed to do right by Felicity, to treat her with the respect she deserved. And he had to ensure everyone else treated her with the same deference. “We both need our rest for the day ahead.”

She relented by maneuvering off of his lap and standing before him. But the moment she began gathering the edge of her chemise, Alex yearned to pull the garment down and taste each lush breast peeking through the sheer fabric.

Still holding her hand, Alex drew her with him toward the door. He knew he needed to stop touching her, to let her go, if only for tonight. For however many nights it took until they could be married. Few lonely nights, he hoped. Very few.

As he reached for the door handle, Felicity gripped his arm. “What happens tomorrow?”

Everything had changed between them since he’d knocked on her door an hour ago. She’d promised to be his. Now they needed to announce their plans.

“Tomorrow we tell my aunt and uncle. And Miss Huntingdon.”

Felicity blanched and loosened her hold on his hand.

“You can’t back out now,” he teased, though his heart began hammering in his chest. She wouldn’t change her mind. Would she?

“My cousin.” She lifted a finger as if she’d bite her nail, then shoved her hand down at her side. “When we arrived, she harbored a bit of a
tendre
for you.”

“As her chaperone and the one who watches over your cousin, you can’t have missed Lord Baxindale’s interest and how ardently she returns it.”

“True.” She twisted her mouth in a rueful expression.

Alex bent and placed a kiss on her adorable pout.

She pushed at him playfully. “I’m sure my cousin won’t be the only lady disappointed by your engagement.”

“
Our
engagement.” Alex’s gut clenched when he thought of the other women who might have a less than pleased reaction to their announcement. He hadn’t been the most reliable of lovers, but he’d never made promises he had no intention of keeping. Perhaps he deserved a bit of feminine wrath but Felicity did not. He’d do his best to quell the backlash. Then a much more pleasant thought struck. “I will enjoy telling Lord Kenniston our news.”

The hand she’d placed on his chest to push him away in jest clenched into a tight fist. “What if he reveals my past indiscretion?”

“He won’t, sweetheart.” Alex sheltered her hand with his. “The man was every bit as indiscreet himself. I suspect the bounder is far more interested in protecting his reputation than ruining yours.” He cast no judgement on Felicity for following her heart, but he still loathed the notion of any other man touching her.

Still, it wasn’t Kenniston, any of the gathered aristocrats, or even the rumormongers back in London that worried Alex. His aunt’s resistance would be their main stumbling block.

“You’re worried.” Felicity spoke softly as she reached up to clasp her hands around his neck. The movement melded her chest to his, arched her hips into his. Holding this woman made sense, made everything ahead seem right, made him look forward to the future. As long as she was there. As long as he could hold her every single day.

“Not truly. Not anymore.” He’d convince his aunt. She wasn’t his father. In the end, she would wish for his happiness above all else. “Worrying is what I’ve been doing for months. Fearing the future, imagining any way I could escape.” He cupped her cheek in his palm, swept his thumb across her lips. “Then you walked onto my aunt’s terrace and chastised me about a note I didn’t write.”

“And you wondered why your aunt had let such a wretched woman into her home?”

Alex hunched until their foreheads touched. “I wondered how I could make you wish to stay, and keep you from ever walking away again.”

“Now you’ve done it. You’ll be stuck with me forever.”

“Yes, sweetheart.” He didn’t deserve this much bliss. He’d broken hearts, avoided responsibility, lived only to please himself. But he wanted this gift she offered. Wanted her by his side always. “Forever.”